oth wise
and prudent, stayed at home the next ten years, without making any other
voyages, and in all that time breathed not a word to his wife to make
her suspect he knew aught of her doings, so virtuous and patient was he.

But he was not yet tired of travelling, and wished to begin again. He
told his wife, who was very dissatisfied thereat.

"Be at ease," he said, "and, if God and St. George so will, I will
return shortly. And as our son, who was born during my last voyage, is
now grown up, and capable of seeing and learning, I will, if it seem
good to you, take him with me."

"On my word", said she "I hope you will, and you will do well."

"It shall be done," he said, and thereupon he started, and took with him
the young man, of whom he was not the father, and for whom he felt no
affection.

They had a good wind, and came to the port of Alexandria, where the good
merchant sold the greater part of his merchandise very well. But he was
not so foolish as to keep at his charge a child his wife had had by
some other man, and who, after his death, would inherit like the other
children, so he sold the youth as a slave, for good money paid down, and
as the lad was young and strong, nearly a hundred ducats was paid for
him.

When this was done, the merchant returned to London, safe and sound,
thank God. And it need not be told how pleased his wife was to see him
in good health, but when she saw her son was not there, she knew not
what to think.

She could not conceal her feelings, and asked her husband what had
become of their son?

"Ah, my dear," said he, "I will not conceal from you that a great
misfortune has befallen him."

"Alas, what?" she asked. "Is he drowned?"

"No; but the truth is that the wind and waves wafted us to a country
that was so hot that we nearly died from the great heat of the sun. And
one day when we had all left the ship, in order that we each might dig a
hole in which to shield ourselves from the heat,--our dear son, who, as
you know was made of snow, began to melt in the sun, and in our presence
was turned into water, and ere you could have said one of the seven
psalms, there was nothing left of him. Thus strangely did he come
into the world, and thus suddenly did he leave it. I both was, and
am, greatly vexed, and not one of all the marvels I have ever seen
astonished me so greatly."

"Well!" said she. "Since it has pleased God to give and to take away,
His name be praised."

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